


The Pleasures of the Other

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miss Lydia Martin has the perfect solution to avoiding all awkwardness with her suitors: bring a friend. Regency AU (Commentfic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pleasures of the Other

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from oddishly. Lyda/Allison, regency AU. WHY SHOULD THE BOYS HAVE ALL THE FUN IN DRESSING UP.

Miss Martin knows good girls are not supposed to feel like this. She has, however, been reading novels that discuss swooping feelings in the chest and then the parlour maids were quite frank with their explanation to Effie, her maid, about what the butcher’s boy wanted to do and she felt more ready. Her best friend, Miss Allison Argent, had no qualms about good or bad, however, and was turning to and fro in front of the floor length looking glass her dear papa had ordered all the way from Paris.

Lydia was determined to cause a stir at Mrs McCall’s divertissement. She shouldn’t even be attending but there were extenuating circumstances that mainly circled around to the fact there was nothing else happening with summer chasing everyone to country estates and to the sea. Her darling papa was not taking them to the coast until later in the month and Lydia was bored. She was not bored enough to take up with any of the local gentlemen, however.

Allison had come up with the plan. It was daring and just thinking of it made Lydia’s heart pound in the confines of her demure chemise. She would be wearing muslim tonight, white and elegant, Classical as was the fashion. She would even be wearing long kid gloves. But Allison had cast off her skirts and was planning to cause a sensation. She spun to meet Lydia’s gaze.

“Will it serve?” She had bound her breasts first, flattening them with bandages. Then she had adopted a loose white shirt. Tight breeches encased her long, elegant legs and the silk stockings fastened below the knee were crisp and pure. With her hair bound back she looked eccentric but masculine enough. Lydia hadn’t asked where the gear had come from but when Allison straightened then fell into a bow, she had to admit that the illusion was nearly complete.

“You still look too fine, too pretty.” Lydia smirked. “You will be a most beautiful boy.”

“As beautiful as Jackson? He could wear one of my dresses and we could each play our parts.” Allison moved to sit down on the bench, exaggeratedly swaggering. “My breeches feel empty. Maybe I should use a pair of socks?” Lydia knew she was blushing at the thought.

“Will we dance together?” she asked instead. There were certain matters she was entirely too interested in and her mother would be most displeased. “How shall all my other suitors be dissuaded?”

“We should kiss.” Allison sprung up, two points of high colour on her cheeks making her complexion bloom. 

“Now?” Lydia could feel her heart beat faster again, a rat-a-tat rhythm to quite outdo the Militia’s band.

“We must be convincing, after all.” The wicked glint in Allison’s eye was all Lydia needed. She held out her hand, canting it to receive a gentle press of lips. “Oh that will never do. They’ll all be asking to kiss your hand. I’ll have to kiss… your cheek.” And Allison darted forward pressing a quick glancing kiss to Lydia’s cheek. She stayed close, breath warm against Lydia’s cheek. 

The next kiss was more certain in its target. It started as warm mouths but Allison seemed to have more expertise, parting her mouth and taking advantage of Lydia’s shocked gasp to slide their tongues together. Warmth built in her core and Lydia found herself fanned by its flames, growing bold. She grasped at Allison’s neck drawing her close and pulling her down to lie on the bed, limbs entwined and a languid, honeyed heat invaded her being, made her very soul want everything she could possibly imagine as Allison, in her masculine garb, bent over her, one knee between her thighs and hands busy at her bodice. Their mouths didn’t part as Lydia pulled Allison close, using her firm thigh to ride out this unexpected passion.

Maybe Miss Lydia Martin had a wicked side too.


End file.
